


Just Come Home

by fishfingersandjellybabies



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 05:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6039799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishfingersandjellybabies/pseuds/fishfingersandjellybabies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a surprise, to say the least, when a recently amnesiac-Bruce Wayne showed up at his farm, demanding to see his son.</p><p>(Spiritual sequel to What To Do and Mentioned In Passing)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Come Home

**Author's Note:**

> Spiritual sequel to [What To Do](http://fishfingersandjellybabies.tumblr.com/post/124158411352/what-to-do-fic) and [Mentioned In Passing](http://fishfingersandjellybabies.tumblr.com/post/131363033972/mentioned-in-passing-fic). Kory came because Dick came (and needed a ride) and she carried him the whole way like a small baby. Dick is embarrassed with himself later about the whole having emotions thing, and Kory teases him a little bit. They all go inside and have pie and stay at the Kent farm for a few more days. Jason, Tim and Cass join them there. Bruce doesn’t put Damian down like ever. Ending got away from me, I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.

He was just at the table. Reading a newspaper, making editing corrections in his head as he went. The young kids today. Their journalism was definitely not _his_ journalism.

He jerked his head up when he heard the clatter of dishes and a gasp, though. Martha had been washing, but she was older now. She couldn’t blame Clark for worrying at every clash. She could fall, have a stroke, have a heart attack, anything. He just needed to be prepared.

Martha seemed fine. Eyes wide and soapy hands frozen in front of her as she stared out the window.

“Ma…?” Clark asked, standing to move to her side anyway.

“He’s here.” She breathed. Blinked and looked at Clark, eyes already watering. “Oh, Clark…he’s _here_.”

Clark cocked his head, looked out the window himself, felt his own body jolt.

Bruce Wayne was out there.

The dust was still settling behind the town car he was slowly stepping out of. He was still in flannel, still bearded, looking around the yard like he’d never seen it before. Or…like he was seeing it for the first time after years and years away.

Curious. Nostalgic.

Clark gasped himself.

_He remembered._

He didn’t know how he knew, just that he did. Knew that look, knew that face. That was Bruce Wayne, that was _his_ Bruce Wayne, _their_ Bruce Wayne.

He darted from the kitchen, anyway, though, worry gripping his heart. He threw the back door open, and ran to the edge of the steps, looking out across the fields.

Damian was out there. In the tree, climbing to the highest branches, his dog watching nervously from below. Dick was there too, rocking back and forth in the old tire swing, while his friend Koriand’r floated near Damian, laughing and talking and protectively watching the child more or less between them. Clark didn’t know how, didn’t bother asking, but somehow the two had gotten away from their lives. Away from the spies and the monsters. Met up and agreed that spending their free time with a lonely little boy hiding out in Kansas was the best option.

And it apparently was – Damian hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d arrived the night before.

But by their carefree expressions, by their laughter and lazy tones, none of them noticed the car that had pulled up, or the man getting out of it.

And Clark almost hoped to keep it that way. At least for now.

He jumped the stairs, landed on the ground with a harsh thump, and took off around the side of the house. By the time he reached the drive, he could see that Alfred had stepped out of the car too, and was obviously searching for him through the windows of the home.

Bruce spotted him quickly, and immediately moved briskly towards him. Clark almost slid to a stop in front of him, leaning forward and grabbed Bruce’s arms.

“Bruce…!”

Bruce looked at him, but something wasn’t…right. It was him, Clark still believed it was him, memories and all but Bruce looked stressed. Tired, grim. Almost petrified.

“Where is he?”

“I…what?” Clark breathed. “Bruce. _Bruce_. Are you…is everything…do you-”

“Later, Clark.” Bruce near growled. “Where is he?”

“Bruce, let’s just.” He sighed, when he heard Titus barking joyously. When he heard Damian laugh, and the telltale sign of Kory’s starbolts. “Let’s just take this slow, okay? Let’s you and me go inside and-”

Bruce suddenly stepped forward, pushed up into Clark’s face. “Kent, where is _my son?”_

Clark gaped, couldn’t help but glance back at Alfred out of habit.

“I had to tell him, sir.” Alfred admitted, almost sadly. “He was…persistent.”

“…Good.” Clark murmured, even as Bruce let up no ground. “Good, I’m…I’m glad about that. _He_ deserves that, really.” Bruce seemed to relax a little. “But…he also deserves warning. Deserves time to process and accept what’s going on.”

Bruce seemed to almost pout.

“And he’s your son, no one knows that more than me.” Clark continued, stepping back. “But right now, he’s still under _my_ care. So. We do this _my_ way, okay?”

He knew that wasn’t what his friend wanted to hear, but. It’s what needed to happen. And he was thankful when Bruce hesitantly nodded his agreement.

“Good. Now,” He gestured towards Alfred, then the porch, and Alfred marched towards it dutifully. As soon as the door clacked behind him, Clark turned back to his own path around the house. Bruce instantly fell in line with him. “Have you seen your other kids?”

“Briefly.” Bruce muttered anxiously. Clark watched as his eyes darted along the porch and in through the house, looking for any sign of his boy. “Tim and Jason anyway.”

“And how are they?” Clark pushed, even as they moved around the corner. He could already see the trio in the backyard. Dick was in the tree now, too, and Kory had that giant Great Dane bundled in her arms, floating easily next to them.

“Good. Stressed.” Bruce said absently, and Clark almost smiled, with how Bruce was craning his neck to catch glimpse of something. _Anything_. “In desperate need of a vacation. One I hope to give them, just as soon as…”

His voice trailed off, and even if it hadn’t, Clark stopped listening. Kory had turned towards them now, noticed them. Clark didn’t know if she recognized Bruce – he _was_ bearded and still, ironically, in the shadow of the house – but he could tell she saw two people. Could tell that those two people were coming towards them, and that it was something serious.

He watched as she turned back to Dick, who in turn, looked over towards them. He couldn’t see Bruce either, was lower than Kory was, but Dick was raised in suspicion, and Clark could see that emotion steeling itself on Dick’s face. He said something to Kory, who immediately lowered Titus to the ground, then swooped to a branch around the back of the tree, returned with Damian firmly in her arms.

Dick himself flipped easily to the ground, stood there until Kory landed next to him, until he could pull Damian tightly into his side. Kory, for her part, stood partially in front of them, fists ready to protect them, at all costs.

“Wait here,” Clark whispered, putting a hand on Bruce’s chest. “Let me…let me just go talk to them first, okay?”

Bruce seemed surprised. “Dick is…he’s here too?”

Clark smiled. “Visits, when he can. A weekend a month. Two, if he’s feeling lucky.”

He left Bruce to stew in that, walking quickly forward. He smiled, when he saw Damian trying to peek curiously around Kory’s side, when Dick jokingly threw his hand over Damian’s face, his eyes. Clark knew it was to stop Damian from, potentially, seeing something he didn’t want to.

“What is it?” Kory asked politely, but fiercely. “Who is that man?”

Clark smiled at her, but focused on Dick. Dick, who was grim and serious, and looking far too much like the father they all thought they’d lost again. “How do you want to do this?”

Dick’s eyes darted across his shoulder but immediately came back. His hands tightened on Damian’s shoulders. “Do what?”

“…It’s him.” Clark said lowly, tried to ignore Damian’s innocent tilt of his head. Focused on Dick’s widening eyes, his second attempt to look over Clark’s shoulders. “So…how do you want to do this?”

“Him…” Dick breathed, let go of one of Damian’s shoulders, only to cross the arm across the boy’s chest. “Does he…”

“Yeah. Everything.” Clark said shortly. Finally glanced down at Damian. “Especially…”

Damian just blinked. Dick tightened his hold.

“Just, you know.” Clark murmured. Reached out and ruffled Damian’s hair. The boy had his own suspicions, now. Kept his face passive, and emotionless. Leaned back into Dick’s safety. “I doubt he’s going to apologize. I don’t think he even wants to explain right now. He just…” A sigh. “He just wants to see his son.” He glanced back up to Dick. “ _Both_ of them.”

That was all Damian needed. Clark realized why Dick had put his arm over the boy’s chest now. It wasn’t just for comfort, it was for protection too.

But Damian lunged, tried to dodge around Clark. Dick caught him, reeled him back in, even as Damian struggled.

“Slow. Damian, _slow_.” Dick ordered, pressing his cheek against Damian’s temple. The boy collapsed back against him, hands digging into Dick’s arm. “We’ve gotta take this slow, okay, bud?”

“He is _my_ father.” Damian whined through his teeth. “It is my _right_ to see him.”

“And you will, okay? You will. He’s right over there.” Dick whispered gently. “But, we’ve talked about this, remember? Things are different. Even if Bruce remembers, things are _different_. And it’s going to take a while to get used to everything again. We can’t go too fast.”

Damian seemed to relax a little bit. Leaned into Dick’s face.

“Let him do all the work.” Dick muttered, as Kory stepped closer to them, and put a hand on Damian’s shoulder. Clark turned then, and waved to Bruce. Bruce, who was already halfway across the yard anyway. “You’ve done enough, Damian, let him do all the work.”

Clark stepped to the side, motioned for Kory to do the same. She hesitated, then shook her head, silently squeezing Damian’s shoulder before stepping to stand protectively behind Dick.

If he was going to try to persuade her, he didn’t get the chance. Bruce must have practically sprinted across the yard, because suddenly, there he was. Staring down at Damian, with the most emotion Clark thinks he’d ever seen his friend have.

Damian must have already been having second thoughts, as he stared up at his father. He seemed to lean further into Dick’s embrace, kept his hands tightly wrapped around Dick’s arm. Dick, for his part, just clung to the child.

“Bruce,” The elder son started. Bruce’s eyes twitched up to his face, and they seemed to get even more emotional. Started to water, even. “How you feeling?”

And Bruce…smiled. Warm and paternal and…different. He looked back down at Damian. “Wonderful, now.”

Clark watched – and heard – Damian gulp. His fingers loosened their grip, though. Just slightly. Bruce seemed to notice the gesture too, let a chuckle rumble from his chest as he slowly lowered to a knee.

“And how are you, Damian?” He asked softly. Like he was a stranger, and Damian was far younger than he really was.

“Fine.” Damian’s voice had a tremor, and he dropped his gaze, just for a moment, to the ground at his right. Kory silently moved to that spot, made sure she was in his line of view. The comfort was unneeded, though, as his eyes quickly rose again. “…You have a beard.”

“I do.” Bruce laughed. Seemed to relax when Damian leaned forward a little bit. “Do you want to touch it?”

“Ew, no.” Damian’s face scrunched, and they all grinned. “That’s gross, Father.”

“The kids at the center ask to all the time.” Bruce’s smile waned a little bit at the mention, and Clark wondered why. Because, now that he remembered who he really was, he’d have to leave them? Or because of the blatant fact, that all the months he spent there, caring for those children, his own children, _Damian_ , were alone and on their own? Bruce sighed, turned to look into the field. At Titus, who was lounging under the tree. When he turned back, his eyes threatened to overflow. “I missed you, Damian.”

“No you didn’t.” Damian countered quickly. “You didn’t _remember_ us.”

“…No. You’re right. I didn’t.” Bruce agreed, slowly nodding. He kept the little boy’s gaze, though. “But I did dream about you.”

Damian didn’t react. Dick’s hand squeezed tighter at Damian’s shoulder.

“About things we never did. Breakfasts and brunches and days at amusement parks.” Bruce explained. “But. Every night. Every one of you.”

Clark could see Dick’s hand shaking now.

“I heard your names, _remembered_ your names, then. And your faces.” Bruce continued. “And how much I love you.”

“But you gave us up.” The tremors had turn to quivers now, and Damian was almost rocking. Deciding, whether he should leave the protection of Dick’s arms or not. “Father, you _willingly_ gave us up, _again_ , to save the world.”

And it was Dick who whispered: “We’re supposed to mean more to you than that.”

“You do, and I’m…sorry.” Bruce tried. “I will be sorry every day, for the rest of my life.”

Dick shook his head. “That won’t make it better, Bruce.”

“Then what will?” Bruce asked quietly. “I won’t…I know I won’t be able to fix it. Fix _any_ of this. What I’ve done is irreparable. I left you all _alone_ , and that can’t be undone.” A pause. “But what can I do? To help your healing? To even so much as… _try_ to make it up to you, in whatever way I can? To prove that I was wrong, and that I will never leave you again, so long as I can help it?”

Damian suddenly let out a sob, and tears immediately began rolling down his cheeks. “Just come _home_.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, and he blinked owlishly. Once. Twice. Three times. Listened to that little boy cry for a second, for only two, before scooting forward, dragging his knee across the ground. Opening his arms, only just a little hesitantly, as if he, the _Batman_ , wasn’t sure he read the situation right.

Damian burst from Dick’s and collapsed into his.

And Bruce caught him. Wrapped his arms as tightly around his shoulders as he could. Cocooned him in the embrace. Pressed his lips so hard to the boy’s temple he had to lean to the side.

“You were happy.” Damian’s muffled voice sounded. Clark glanced at Dick, who had silent tears running down his face, too. “You were so happy without us and we… _I_ …didn’t want to take that from you.”

“Because if there’s anyone who deserves to be happy, B,” Dick breathed, even as Kory wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders. “It’s _you_.”

“I was content. I was _okay_.” Bruce shook his head, pressed another kiss to Damian’s face before looking at up Dick. “But there was always something missing, I could feel it. Every day, it _hurt_ , because I knew something was missing, and I couldn’t remember what. I couldn’t remember _who_.”

Dick gulped, and tried to purse his lips to hide their shaking.

“But it was you.” Bruce ducked his face back down, rocked Damian back and forth. “It was _always_ you. And Tim and Jason and Cassandra and Alfred…”

Dick gasped a sob, covered his face with his hands.

“We didn’t think you’d come back this time.” Dick admitted sorrowfully. Sounding more like an eight year old than someone twenty years older than that. “You didn’t _remember_ , and you were _happy_ and…and it was worse than when you were _dead_ last time. We didn’t think we could…we could get lucky again. We thought…we thought there was nothing we could do. That we’d lost you, the _real_ you, _our_ you, _forever_.” A pause, to sob. To inhale and cough out a few more sounds. “That we weren’t getting you back, no matter what we did, and…and we…”

And Bruce didn’t miss a beat. Damian still hidden in his arms, he held his hand out. “Come here, Dick.”

Dick shook his head, tried to regain his composure. But Kory did the moving for him. Gently squeezed his side as she pushed him forward. Assisted him until he was close enough that Bruce could grab him. Relinquished her hold as Bruce wrapped an arm around Dick’s lower back, sandwiched Damian between them, and the man near crumbled in his arms. Bending over at an impossible angle, half collapsing as he wrapped his arms around Bruce’s neck and Damian alike.

Bruce only grunted once, and shifted slightly to a more comfortable position. “I’m sorry,” He whispered, loud enough only for his boys to hear, but the aliens surrounding them heard it clearly anyway. “I’m so sorry, boys.”

Dick just shook his head, burrowed deeper into Bruce’s neck. Damian did nothing.

Suddenly, he looked up at Clark. Eyes dark with pain and memory and trauma. The eyes of Batman. The eyes Clark remembered.

“You didn’t have to do this.” Bruce whispered. “You didn’t have to…to take in my son like he was your _own_.”

“You’re my best friend.” Clark laughed. Reached out and ruffled Damian’s hair, even as he caught sight of Alfred and Ma quietly sneaking onto the porch. “So he basically already was.”

“…I can never thank you enough, Clark. For doing this for him.” Bruce’s voice was too raw, too grateful. It almost made Clark feel awkward. “For _both_ of them.”

“Your boys are good kids. And, again, the _best friend_ thing.” Clark laughed, moving to stand with Kory, sharing a knowing smile with her. “So guess what, Bruce?”

Bruce watched him silently, arms full of children. Sobbing, vulnerable, relieved children. It was so obvious he wasn’t letting either his youngest or eldest go, not for a long time, not for anything, and just…the whole scene in front of him made Clark grin wider.

 _This_ was Bruce Wayne. This was _their_ Bruce Wayne. _Their_ friend. _Their_ mentor. _Their_ father. The one they _all_ missed _most_.

This broken little family, of young heroes and battered, fragile, golden hearts, was whole once more.

_Batman had finally come home._

Clark laughed, throwing an arm around Kory’s shoulders, even Bruce kissed Damian’s forehead again. Held his boys, so obviously, _impossibly_ , tighter. “You’ll _never_ have to.”


End file.
